“Lord Slaslow—Braddon—I can’t!” Sophie’s voice was almost a wail.

Patrick moved a bit closer. “Why not?”

Sophie stared down at the dark form below her. Braddon’s voice sounded surprisingly rough; he usually affected a soft, gentlemanly lisp. He was undoubtedly cross at the unconventional way in which she had forced him to appear in her garden and elope with her.

“Lord Slaslow, will you please come up and talk for a minute before eloping? Please?“

Sophie heard what sounded like a growl escaping through clenched teeth. Then the man below her moved toward the house and she nervously gripped the ladder. What if the ladder swung backward while her betrothed was climbing and he fell to the ground? That would certainly awaken the servants. And what if Braddon hurt himself? He wasn’t exactly a nimble man.

But he seemed to be negotiating the ladder with careless grace. Sophie giggled nervously to herself, wondering if he had practiced during the day. As Braddon neared the windowsill she backed up in a little rush and perched herself on the bed. She had snuffed the candles, so the only light in the room was a very dim glow from the window itself.

Sophie almost gasped as the large cloaked figure swung his leg over the windowsill. Then he seemed to catch sight of her sitting on the bed and stopped for a second. Sophie could almost feel Braddon’s eyes moving slowly over her body, even though she couldn’t see his face at all, since it was buried inside the hood of his cape.

Finally he swung the other leg over the sill and jumped lightly into the room. He said nothing but simply leaned back on the windowsill, his cloak giving a tiny billow behind him and then settling around his broad shoulders. Sophie gulped.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m not ready to elope.” She stopped for a moment. “The reason I asked you … well, I asked you to come up here, Lord Slaslow,” she said in a rush, “is that I’ve decided that I’ve been a complete peagoose and I know you’ll be as mad as fire over it, but I just can’t go down the ladder with you, not tonight and not … not anytime.” Sophie tried to see Braddon’s face but only the silhouette of his body was visible in the window. His cloak was really quite annoying.

“Oh?”

She hurried on. “I’ve been miserable all day, and I’ve thought and thought; I know how excited you were to elope, so I didn’t want to simply tell you in a note, but I can’t elope—and I don’t wish to get married, either!”

At that, her betrothed—whose large frame was really starting to intimidate her, Sophie thought—crossed his arms over his chest.

But all he said was, “Why?”